PERSONAL // Words // Into the Fog

We moved in together.
Not because we were ready to - but the signs showed us we ought to. My toothbrush there. His shoes here. We kind of lived between two places. Until his lease ran up. "Let's live together." It made sense. Save some money on rent. Save up some money for a house. Why not?

Starting off smoothly, it was great. Someone to come home to, someone to cook with, and someone to say good night to... However the larger issues have come to the surface. As expected with any new roommate. Small things lead to big things. Reading between the lines. So many little arguments. So many misunderstandings. We recently had a serious talk. The best kind. Sifting through the real problems to get closer to the truth. It made us see each other better but opened a lot more questions than it answered. My life choices were beginning to morph and while his remained static. It wasn't that our relationship was drifting just . . . not so precise as we had thought. Marriage. I often brought it up. A life decision that garners a coming of age which I felt socially pressured to acquire, but internally saw it only as a financial gain. Tax benefits. And as the days grew colder we slowly discovered an almost identical but different state of mind. The topic is on the table. Collecting dust.

1

Yesterday, we woke up to foggy weather. I loved it instantly. As I got ready for work, I knew I had to take pictures. He was already sporting a vibrant red turtleneck that morning. But I begged him to change his clothes to match the weather's disposition. Knowing I wouldn't walk out the door without resolving my goal, he willingly agreed to change.

He's great. Yielding at my artistic whims.

The fog wasn't as thick as I had hoped. From faraway it seemed like a dense cloud with no sign of distance. But as you approached, it just became a murky sky weaving in and out of the trees and the grass. Like an untouchable spirit longing to be received.

A

Our feet, drenched, from the early morning moisture was soiled with catches of grass blades as we walked through a nearby field. Posing him for photos was easy. "Stand here. Turn left. Look at me." A routine we've developed as photographer and model. He knew to make the slight changes and wasn't afraid to do as I had asked. No words. No complaints. We continued this dance for a bit until I asked him to photograph myself. It's always a rather tricky maneuver for us. My expectations of what I will look like never quite make it in the photographs but somehow he delivers better. It's like he sees a better side of me. We embraced the invisible vapor a bit more walking through paths of trees, hand in hand, viewing the waterdrops on withered leaves, and eventually time told us to go back to our lives.

3

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5

As I reviewed the images that I had taken, I used Photoshop to merge the photos together. Looking at it, I laughed. My first reaction was that it reminded me of Korean lifestime tv show posters. The ones that make you cry hard because lost lovers or morose endings are the epitome of entertaining drama. Our faces look tired. We clearly weren't ready to wake up. Our sad distant eyes and pursed lips looked so tragic. As if we had come to a certain crossroads in our lives that made us look away. I liked the silent tension. It suited us very well. We are entering the fog. Not bad. Not good. Just gray - and a little unclear.